Excerpt's from my father's unpublished Lonerism
by FanFictionLeon
Summary: Hachiman Hikigaya's son reflects on the moments his father spoke to him about relationships. Written in his son's perspective.
1. Chapter 1

My father hated nice girls.

"And do you know why I hate nice girls?" he asked me.

I didn't answer. Not immediately. Instead I focused on the ground observing the intricate knots that collectively create a carpet. With Father, every question was vast, particularly those that looked simple. And simple questions deserved as much insight and wisdom as could be brought to bear.

With that in mind, I said nothing as I returned my gaze into my father's dead fish-eye's, as mom likes to refer to them. In vex I look away feeling him pick at my character with those eyes of his. Girls were always a sensitive topic amongst him.

Why would my father hate nice girls?

One of his acquaintances came into the teacher's lounge. Father didn't have assistants. Or friends. And for that matter he didn't have heroes either. My father chooses with great judgement who to rely on. If it were possible I'm sure he could shoulder the world's responsibility. _Don't give up, Dad. Do your best, Dad. Don't lose your hair, Dad.[1]_ Every person, living or lost, was an acquaintance, excluding family and loved ones, my old man always adored my mother and sister more than me.

"Hikigaya-san," said the visitor.

Father heard the woman, but he was watching me.

The woman was pretty, and I was sixteen. So I looked at her, smiling enough for the both of us. And she threw an appreciative wink my way as she described the plans for the Service Club.

Here at Sōbu High, my father and picked acquaintances were in charge of directing the Service Club activities not too big for our small club, but swift enough for us to participate and help.

And I was a sixteen year-old boy smiling at a pretty woman.

My father thanked her for the update on current events, and she left as swiftly as she entered.

Just as I feared, he never looked away from me.

"I don't know why you hate nice girls," I admitted.

With Father, ignorance was never the worst crime. The more you know, the more problems you have. What was awful was pretending to have insight and wisdom where neither existed.

"Kindness is a lie," he said.

I nodded, just a little.

"Just exchanging greetings with them will get them on your mind. Start texting each other, and your heart will be set a flutter. But nice girls are nice to others, you have to remind yourself that." Was it just my imagination or did he speak from experience?

"I know, I do," I agreed.

Then he asked me in a questioning tone, "if reality is a cruel mistress..."

I pretended to take my time, considering various smart answers. But I ended up using my first impulse.

"Then kindness must be a lie," I said.

He laughed. Which wasn't uncommon for my father, but it was heartening to hear just then.

"What else can you tell me?" he asked.

"If girls are nice to me I'll always end up with expectations." I said. Then I listed a few examples: My expectations will always result in misunderstandings. Eventually I'll stop hoping because they're always nice. How can I hope to ever understand and find that genuine thing?

Father nodded.

The smile died.

Then he said something ominous. Although I didn't appreciate it at the time.

"A highly trained loner is once bitten, twice shy," he said.

"Are they?" I muttered.

"Yes, oh yes. And what you're doing here... is letting your expectations fall on someone else's shoulder. You'll never reach that genuine thing."

I nodded, smiling like a good son.

But I was sixteen, and my thoughts were mostly about the pretty woman who winked at me.

* * *

[1] _During the light novel, Hachiman compares his dad to an ant while he observed the colony comparing them to corporate slaves. This is one of the only mentions in the novel of his dad._

This chapter was inspired by a grimoire text which helped serve as a template of where this story will head as well as a few future chapters. I'm still unsure of where I'm headed with it, but I plan for the final state to be vastly different of where it is now.

Lonerism is not a word in the dictionary, as far as I know. It's the name of an album by Tame Impala. Along with Innerspeaker and Currents their music always reminds me of Hachiman. Listen to a couple of their songs off Lonerism. You'll understand why I chose that word.


	2. Chapter 2

People say I'm a real cynical guy. That's true enough. Growing up in my household father always told me how society had plans for me. Told me to look between the lines, not everything is as it seems in face value.

My just as cynical aunt Haruno–she use to watch over me–she'd come up with these wild stories of my father's past. She'd say, "you know, Yukito, I've been watching over you, and personally I've come to think your an exact copy of him. You're just like your father, Monster of Logic, a pillar of truth. And I wished you'd remember that, so you could save yourself."

You can see how that can be embarrassing, especially when she'd say it in front of my mother, who already thought my father's words of encouragement were just as corrupt as his personality. I know how my mother gets, especially around father. But I'd just say, "aunt Haruno, you might be on to something there, but if I'm honest with you I think trying to discover what is genuine sounds exhausting, so I'd best leave it to you."

My mother would react angrily towards me. Giving me her most coldest stares and pulling on my cheeks. But I knew she enjoyed my remark a little, after all, I'm her favorite. Then aunt Haruno goes and plays it off as a joke almost flawlessly and I end up as the punchline. So here I stand, reading my novels, participating in club activities, and getting my worry on over my younger sister.

One day I ask Father, "yo, of course I know why you'll want something genuine, but really, what are we looking for? When aunt Haruno jokes about the human nature, when you warn me to be careful around other people, when Mother gets all gruff when I'm beginning to take after you chasing the same thing–what am I really after? If I left my home and jumped on the train and just went out there tomorrow, real heroic, and I found that genuine thing, what would happen?"

 _Would I be saved?_

"Good question," he says–hang on, let me do my father's impression. "As you know, Yukito, finding that genuine thing will only benefit you, especially in the long run. Genuine is truth and sincerity; this world does not like the idea of truth and sincerity. You will writhe, struggle and strife in frustration at all the empty people you'll meet. You'll need to be strong and cynical like me. But you will eventually find happiness and maybe that someone to share it with. Yukino and I both wanted that."

"Right," I said, "but that genuine thing you sought for, its been found. You had my sister and me." I didn't want to sound cocky, but I had no doubts my parents are proud of us. They're the biggest son and daughter-cons I know.

"And you're mother and I are proud of that," Father said, "but that's our greatest achievement. Right now, yours is out there waiting to be discovered when you are ready to do so."

So I say what I want to say everyday, it's no secret, I say"–well, I'll go find it, then. I will find my genuine thing."

And Father looks at me with one of those looks that–you know sometimes when you talk to him and just think, _wow, you are not even using a fraction of your brain on me, are you?_ One of those looks. He says: "Yukito, the problem isn't just that we can't find it. The problems is that it's just not clear to any of us if we are even ready for it."

That's the way things seem to turn out, up here in the Hikigaya household. Nothing simple to do. No easy answers.

And all I think is, _if I find my genuine thing, my happiness to share, and lost how I got it in the first place–what would I do? What will I do that time around?_ When I hear about my parents, the couple that found that genuine thing together in a world full of people with masks, I wonder... what would they talk about? My parents and those creatures.

" _I wore a mask, too. I was a slave to society and myself, bound to the will of social groups. But I learned to be something more..._ " Thanks, Dad.

* * *

So his name is _Yukito Hikigaya_. I like the name Yuki and tried to incorporate that into a male character. I didn't even know if Yukito was a real Japanese name so I googled it. Turns out it means traveler. Not sure what to think of that.

Honestly I don't want to delve into the realm of OC so I'll try to stray from that.

I suppose I should add where the idea of this story is stemmed off of. No one just becomes cynical. It either gets fed to you or the idea gets seeded into the depths of your mind. I like to think Hachiman got his cynicism from his father (or mother?) Along with verbal bullying Hachiman began to question the world he lived in as a child and the next. The same thing can be said about his son, only though on what is this genuine thing? The idea of finding that was seeded into his mind and he begins to question his world and the people in it. I like to think if Hachiman saw his own son going through what he went through he would offer his words except crypt with cynicism, much like Hiratsuka when she would lecture him one on one about life. But I'd also like to hear where you guys think he got it from.

I don't think I'll get far with this story, but I'll play around with it if I can.


	3. Chapter 3

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

"When I was a little boy," Father said.

"During your school years," I asked. We were observing my younger sister behind a glass panel playing with her daycare mates. She still has yet to notice us standing outside ready to take her home. Maybe she can't detect our presence?

"More or so."

He reached down to brush my unruly hair. "I was recalling how very isolated I used to be. When I was your age, I was a loner."

"You're still a loner now," I said. I didn't mean it like that. Father had us now, but when he would leave to work his demeanor would visibly change. As far as I know, my father's social pool consisted of my mother, aunt Haruno, and aunt Yui, not including family of course.

He laughed hard. Was it a joke he was recalling? A joke that withstood the test of time? If it is, please share.

"Look around," he said.

I always look around.

"Miss nothing," he told me.

Father and I were observing our Yukiko.

"This is what I want you to see," he said.

The daycare was full of children drawing to their heart's desire on white paper. The room was full of drawings and claymation from other children adorning the walls and bookshelves. A group of kids were surrounding my sister attracted to her radiant smile as they all worked collectively together. At that moment she was as luminescent as the sun. Even Father and I, who were observing from outside of the classroom, were captivated by her cuteness.

"Do you know how memories are made?" he asked.

"I don't know if I do," I said. I have memories of elementary and those of my childhood when my parents were raising me, there are other memories, but I did not purposely create them. If I wanted to I could recall what I was feeling that day.

"You tell yourself a story," he said. "It can be a good or bad one you'll never forget, that you will carry forever. Your story can be told from every perspective and at times take odd turns, make sure it belongs to you, so you can keep it a secret."

Father kneeled, putting our faces close...

"I want to show you something," he said. "Something normal."

I tried to imagine what that 'something normal' might be.

"No," he warned. "You can't guess."

He took my hand guiding us further into the building... we stopped at another classroom. They were working on arts and craft, but unlike my sisters class they were divided, and the difference in groups was noticeable. Nothing but enclosed groups of children. No room for one more. I have never seen a sadder class of children.

"This is a loner's world," Father said. "When I was your age."

I touched the glass somehow envisioning my father as a child. So he was alone? He watched my hand pull back.

"You were alone," I said.

He laughed quietly.

I took his hand, he gave me a squeeze, and it felt better.

"Our world was this. An entire class full of people too afraid to be themselves. Frauds. Dead in so many ways. And I was your age."

I was bored with the dead world. I looked at Father's face, asking, "Can we leave?"

He started to reach for my hair again but decided not to.

I was bored of everything.

"When I was your age, people were afraid being viewed differently. They would find their place to fit, a group which accepted everything about them. Then their traits that once made them different was molded by the weight of the group and some people were lost. I couldn't find my place to fit. But when I was a boy, I had every expectation of finding myself a place."

"Then I entered my junior years."

"Everything was still the same."

"That's when everybody, particularly the most popular, began turning on those that had no place. We were juniors and our little ideas were toys, and the world was cut apart with social outcast and riajuu."

Father stopped talking.

We stepped away from the glass panel heading towards Yukiko's class.

"Do you know what I wanted to show you?" Father asked.

"Riajuu," I said.

"Guess again." He wasn't happy with me.

We stepped back towards Yukiko's class observing the children finishing their art. I blinked and looked around, surprised by how radiant everything was. My sister made a new friend today. How suddenly happy everything became. Even the saddest face was happy.

"I know what you want me to see," I said.

"Don't tell me," he said.

I didn't tell him.

* * *

So I named his sister. _Yukiko Hikigaya_. Again I couldn't come up with a creative and fitting name, but I do like the sound of Yukiko and Yukito. If you were to imagine her she would be much like her mother, maybe even cuter. I decided to do something similar to Hachiman and Komachi with Yukito and Yukiko. Except rather then a two or three year difference the age gap is bigger.

So Hachiman and his son are waiting for Yukiko to finish her creation. As you probably guessed she will be popular with that radiant smile of hers.


	4. Chapter 4

Another week I eat alone. Father was right, it's like a battlefield.

When I would sit back in my chair, too afraid to talk to anyone, I watched all the kids I couldn't even compare myself with make friends like we're all supposed to. I was too preoccupied with worry of fitting in I forgot to fit in. So I was given the role of an observer; at least I like to see it that way. If I can't compare myself to them, someone of my age no matter the gender, then I came to the conclusion we're not the same.

Now that I see it that way, I don't need them and they don't need me.

That day I went home trying to pretend that none of it happened. Lied to my mother that I look forward to the next day. Ah, why won't they talk to me? Then I wouldn't have to go through these guilt trips every day when she would confront me on how my day went, what I learned. She always took a brief pause before asking if I made any friends. I would just shyly look away and speak about a kid I know doesn't exist. The smile on her face made me sick to my stomach.

The stress is a little overwhelming at times. Trying to fit in. Why can't there be a world with no social groups? The result will be no one gets left out. But the more I think of such an ideal world the more impossible it sounds. Humans are social creatures.

For example, one day the teacher gave us free time to chat while she left the classroom to retrieve copies of an assignment she forgot. I don't blame her. What I learned that day has stuck with me since. Now where was I? Ah, of course, shortly after she left everyone fell into place.

Everyone except me.

I was the one kid between the lines; always overlooked. I'm not too far off the beauty scale to be visibly noticed, but I wouldn't count myself for good looks and being attractive. I'm right dab in the middle, a background character in everyone's lives. We all are I suppose. In the end I can't help shake the feeling I'm that one kid that slips through the seems of which I'm suppose to fall on, not through.

Observing everyone from my seat it was only then clear to me that I was left out. In the first few days of school they were all making friends so fast. Is that normal? At that time I asked that question towards the fact that I became the exception of a social outcast, a loner. But it never occurred to me to ask that question the other way. Is it normal to not have friends?

I sigh visibly. Just like my father predicted.

Well he didn't actually say it out loud, but back then at the daycare he was warning me of something.

It isn't so bad. I actually like it. I don't have to force talk onto anyone and if I have nothing interesting to say I won't say anything. My dad was a loner and look how he turned out.

Lost in my own shadow I didn't catch the comment someone said about me, but I did catch the stare everyone was giving me. Hiding their laughter and sharing insides jokes I know I'll never be a part of. Are they laughing at me? The weight of the entire classroom fell on me and I've never felt so small. The laughs, the stares, the manifestation of evil all casted on my shoulders.

I sink my head pretending to nod off. Maybe if they knew I didn't listen or care they would back off. But that didn't work.

It never does.

In my darkness I heard it. The source of all the laughter. The butt of the joke. That source is me.

What the hell is _Hiki-germs_?

And how the fuck does it correlate to my ability to make friends?

I realized my fist were shaking and maybe the weight was too much for me.

I visibly let the stress go and sink further into my seat. The circle of friends verbally attacking me stopped as soon as they heard the teacher approaching. At the time it only lessen the pain, but it didn't sit right with me. Because if you remove the factor that is stopping them from acting cruel towards me, they'll continue anyways. Humans may be social creatures, but an animal in that setting will never know friend from foe.

From there it continued for about a week and my lunch time remains ever unchanging. I have no problem eating alone, rather that I didn't want to put up with those kids. Visibly, I couldn't let them get the best of me. There is something unsettling when you see someone come to accept harsh words being thrown at them as facts. I want to enjoy the only time of the day I enjoy in peace. I had to find a place of solitude to ease my solace. A place to be so small.

I had no clue where to look, but I knew removing them wasn't the solution. Instead I opted to remove myself from the setting, fade into the background and become one of those characters no one's eyes can fall on. My first location was as cliche as running late to school with bread hanging from your mouth. I ascended the stairs quietly watching my back and holding on tight to my bento. The rooftop isn't the worst location actually. In most cases they lock the doors prohibiting any juniors access to the highest point in school, but if my luck isn't as rotten as my father's eyes they may have forgotten.

When I reached the top of the stairs I had the urge to watch my back and I could feel the pressure on my heart lessen when no one was there. Placing my hand on the door my hopes began to rise when the door was accepting of me. I opened it quietly not drawing any attention and slipped through.

What awaited me on the other side was not solace.

Before me stood a figure with dark blonde hair billowing around her. The creak of the door caught her attention and she acknowledged my presence. I stared in wonder at her reflecting green eyes, even from here I could see my dumbstruck face. She had a look as if I caught her and I felt uninvited. I wanted to make my leave but my body stood frozen and my mind fascinated at the scene before me.

Her eyes were earnest and frighten at my presence, but we were drawn to each other, so much so, that the sound of the closing doors failed to grab our attention. I finally looked away giving birth to a hideous nervous laugh. My throat was parched by the lunch I failed to eat today.

It's weird. In this blissful moment of rush I felt the world around me changing. I guess I have someone to talk about with my mom, but she'll just be excited.

* * *

 **Sup'**

 **If the plot doesn't make sense, good. Because it shouldn't. I forgot to mention these excerpts are not in chronological order. That is my mistake, but these ideas just come and go with no real order in mind and they help me write something out. All the excerpts should be relating to Hachiman in someway, after all they are in his son's POV. Yukino will have her part as well, she is the parent and will be influential on his upbringing I just don't know when. I definitely want to give her dialogue though. A talk between mother and son.**

 **I want it to remain around the family so other characters will make appearances. If you have any questions to make sense of this hit me up with a PM or review. I'll do my best to resolve any confusion I caused for not putting them in order.**


End file.
